My Love Brought Me Summer on a Grey Winter's Day
by friskynotebook
Summary: Han comes down with the Sullustian Sniffles on Fete Eve. Leia decides he can't spend a holiday alone in the med centre. Written for fisherford40 for the Han/Leia Secret Santa Winter Exchange 2017.


_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Han groaned at the persistent sound coming from the med centre equipment. The absolute last place he wanted to be was in a kriffing hospital bed on Fete Eve—especially when he practically broke the sound barrier trying to get back to his wife in time for the holiday.

But no—he just _had_ to come down with a case of the Sullustian Sniffles. Despite the cutesy name, the Sniffles were no laughing matter. Han could think of the worst symptoms from any other galaxy-wide cold or flu, and they would pale in comparison to his relatively mild incarnation of the Sniffles— constant nausea, pounding migraines, a stuffy and runny nose, and aching muscle cramps were all par for the course.

Han closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the standard-issue pillows. As much as he didn't want to deal with his idiot med droid, he really did need—

 _Creeeeeak_. "Han?"

His eyes flew open. "Leia?"

His wife closed the door behind her and walked over to her bed. "Hey, hotshot."

"Honey," he whispered. "What are you doing here? Aren't you gonna get sick?"

"The Sniffles aren't contagious, remember?" she reminded him gently, stroking his sweaty forehead with her thumb.

"But what about the baby?"

"Baby's fine, I'm fine," she reassured him, taking off her coat to reveal a nightgown flowing over her swollen belly. "As long as he's inside me, he's good."

He nodded, accepting this. "But why'd ya come all the way here? It's late."

"Because after all the trouble you went through, there's no way in hell I'm not spending Fete Eve with my ridiculously adorable husband." Leia dampened a washcloth and started wiping his face.

Han sighed involuntarily at the cool cloth touching his skin. "Feels nice."

She smiled softly. "Are you in pain?"

"Not anymore," he replied smoothly, trying to ignore the liquid slowly escaping his nose. He sniffled valiantly.

Leia smirked at her husband's bravado, setting the washcloth aside. She dampened another cloth and gently wiped at his nose, getting the old and new snot off his face. When she finished, she held the cloth to his nose. "Blow."

He widened his eyes. "What?"

"You heard me. Blow."

"Leia, I don't wanna."

"Why not? You've done it in front of me before, many times—especially during your _last_ cold . . ."

"Because you're catching the snot—isn't that gross? What if it gets on your hand?"

"I'll wash it off, like most people do when their hands are dirty," she replied, giving him a coy smile.

He sighed. "At least let me hold the cloth." He tried lifting his arms, then groaned at the pain shooting through his muscles.

"Han," she murmured, still holding the cloth. "Taking care of you is never gross—even when your snot is bright green," she smirked. "Besides, if our son is anything like you, he'll be getting sick all the time. Consider this practice for me."

After a moment, he blew his nose loudly into the cloth, not missing Leia's face relax as she heard the noise. She cleaned him up, then dumped the cloth into the laundry bag and washed her hands.

"Better?" she asked, going back to wiping his face.

"Yeah," he admitted. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she whispered.

Han silently watched her wipe his face, too exhausted to speak anymore. He closed his eyes, letting the soothing motion relax his body. When the motion stopped, he opened his eyes again.

"I'm just going to get you some more medicine before bed," she reassured him, slipping her coat back on.

"No, don't go," he protested, getting nervous when he saw the coat.

"I'll be back," Leia promised. "You don't want the droids seeing an Alderaanian senator in her nightgown, do you?"

He relaxed. "Nope—I saw how K4 was lookin' at you."

"I'll be on my best behaviour," she teased, quietly leaving the room.

Han had barely started drifting off when his wife returned with the droid.

"Would you like me to set your room to sleep mode?" the droid asked as he administered the drugs.

"Yeah," he gruffed, biting back a snarky remark when he saw Leia raise her eyebrow.

The droid adjusted the room settings. "Goodnight, General Solo," he hummed, leaving the room as promptly as he entered.

Leia took off her coat and carefully lowered one of the arms on the bed, climbing in.

"Sweetheart, the bed's not that big—"

"And when has that been a problem for us?" she asked, wrapping her right arm around his left.

"Point taken," he smirked.

She took his other hand and gently guided it to her belly. Their son gave a sharp kick.

Leia chuckled. "He's saying, 'get better soon Daddy! You need to annoy Mommy before I come along and take all her attention!'"

Han coughed out a laugh at her high-pitched vocal impression of their child, then closed his eyes.

"Don't worry, kid—I'll be annoying both you and Mommy before you even know it."


End file.
